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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28902189">Warp Strike</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/whythekwehnot/pseuds/whythekwehnot'>whythekwehnot</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Birthday, Father Son Bonding, Gen, Gift Giving, Weakening Regis, surprise</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:28:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28902189</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/whythekwehnot/pseuds/whythekwehnot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Noct’s 16th birthday and Regis has a surprise for him.</p>
<p>Written for the ffxv zine “A Father’s Love” 💙</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Noctis Lucis Caelum &amp; Regis Lucis Caelum</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Warp Strike</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Regis felt guilty, the weight was like lead on his shoulders. He had grieved when the crystal had chosen his son as the prophesied True King, because he knew the fate that waited for Noctis. He knew his only son would die young. The prophecy had been passed down through the Caelum generations, from father to son, mother to daughter, monarch to successor; so that when the True King arrived, they would be ready. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In order to provide the best life he could for Noctis, Regis had put him into a regular school, had encouraged his friendship with Prompto and had allowed his son more freedom than </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>had been given at fifteen. His father, King Mors, had provided the finest Tenebraen tutors for him and ensured that he travelled to the various regions of Lucis to prepare him for his future as King, but he refused to do the same for Noctis. Knowing his fate, Regis wanted him to have as normal a life as possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Uncertain of when Noctis’ fate would strike, Regis planned an event for every birthday that his son reached. Gladiolus and Ignis had reported to him that Noctis had been able to defeat them in their combat training, finally being granted a real sword to train with and not a wooden one; so he found the gift he had planned a fitting one - his engine blade that he had had since he was Noctis’ age. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Having felt weak for weeks prior, he had been actively avoiding strenuous activities, knowing that events, meetings and activities were contributing to his exhaustion and Regis wanted to conserve his strength for today, his boy’s sixteenth birthday. He had already asked Noctis to spend the afternoon with him; his son had made no secret of his desire to go into the city with his friends that evening but his smile was radiant when Regis had asked him to spend one on one time with him, as father and son only - none of the royal protocol they usually had to abide by. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The timing was perfect for them both, Noctis had become skilled enough in combat to defeat his retainers (a feat in and of itself, Regis had observed both Ignis and Gladiolus in training and they were both highly skilled combatants) and he had woken up feeling particularly well that day. His plan had worked, he felt strong enough to spar with Noctis and develop his warping skills. Fortunately, it was the one thing that no one but Regis could teach his son and nobody could ever take that away from him.  He already felt enough despair and guilt over the crystal’s choosing of his child. Regis would make as much time to be a real Dad to Noctis as he could, rather than just being the King. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regis waited impatiently in his study, purposely staying away from the throne room for Noctis’ arrival. Thankfully, his son was punctual for a change, the heavy door was pushed open and Noctis strolled in with a smile on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dad, how are you feeling?” He asked tentatively. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regis had worried when he had been seen a few weeks ago using his cane; he had recently been instructed to use it by the Citadel medical staff but he didn’t want anyone, especially not his son, viewing him as weak or ill. The look of pure concern on his son’s face had shattered his heart into pieces, each fragment feeling heavy in his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiled back, proud that he did not need the cane today. “I’m very well, Noctis, thank you. Happy birthday! You only turn sixteen once. Do you feel older, wiser and more in sync with your old Dad yet?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noct laughed, the innocent grin of a little boy in front of his father lighting up his face. “Thanks, so… what are we doing today?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, first, l need to give you your gift.” Regis stood, bringing one hand up and summoning his engine blade from the armiger, the mysterious aether that only those of the Caelum bloodline had access to. He passed it across to Noctis, who stood there slack jawed, as if he couldn't believe he was being gifted the prized sword.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not… no, you love this blade!” Noctis spat out, shock painting his features. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regis merely shrugged, “I do, but not as much as I love my son, it’s time to pass it onto you, Noctis.” He pushed the blade towards Noctis once more, pleased when he unsteadily brought both hands up to grasp it gently. “Now you have the sword, how about a little royal sparring session, father against son?”</span>
</p>
<p>If Noctis looked shocked before, he was a caricature of himself now, with his eyebrows buried in his hairline, his eyes wide open and his jaw still hanging open. He hadn’t sparred with his father in at least five years.</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll catch flies if you don’t close your mouth. That happened to your grandfather once,” Regis laughed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noctis snapped his mouth closed, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “You’re lying," he accused. The Prince grinned when his dad started to laugh. </span>
</p>
<p><span>“Come, I’ve asked the Crownsguard to ensure the security of the training room but to not be present. You need to get comfortable with your new weapon and I want to see what your warping ability is like in battle. I can’t emphasise enough how much it can help you in times of need. Now, let's go and give you a chance to beat up your old man.” Regis laughed, wrapping one arm around Noctis in a fatherly embrace. </span>   </p>
<p>
  <span>They entered the training room, paintings of the history of Eos adorning the walls; the first showed the Hexatheon overlooking Eos and the fulfilment of Noctis’ destiny, on the other walls were paintings of the lands in and around Lucis and a recent portrait of Regis standing in the throne room with senior council members hung proudly on their right. Noctis looked around at the images surrounding him, the claustrophobia he usually felt in the room not striking since he was with his Dad, away from the pressures of royal life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Warp on ahead, Noctis, summon your engine blade.” Regis directed, pointing towards the far end of the room. Noct warped across, the ecstasy of the warp warming his bones and stealing his breath. It was as easy as breathing for him. For his Dad, not so much anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me when you’re ready, old man,” Noct teased, a gleeful smile on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time that he had spent time like this with his Dad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regis chuckled, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s my boy, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought to himself, pleased. He summoned his glaive, the wing on one side of the hilt reflecting the light shining through the windows above them. “Ready?” Noctis nodded and both took a battle ready stance. “Attack.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regis warped across the small space to where his son stood. He allowed himself to feel slightly smug at the surprised expression on Noct’s face when he had warped - it was known in the Citadel that the King could not warp as freely as in the past; he took advantage of the momentary pause, bringing his blade down to meet Noct’s, the metallic </span>
  <em>
    <span>clang</span>
  </em>
  <span> ringing around them in the enclosed space. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s on now.” Noctis laughed, pulling back his composure and warping away quickly. He reappeared on the far side of the room from Regis, he tried to think of his training again, where were his father’s weaknesses, what angle could he warp from to give him an advantage? Regis’s experience was showing though, he warped to meet his son, blade high up in the air, as he attacked hard and fast, forcing Noct to defend his position quickly and make mistakes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noct blocked the last attack, finally finding an opening to parry his father. The metal </span>
  <em>
    <span>clank </span>
  </em>
  <span>rang through his skull, making his thoughts jumble together and slow down; Noct forced himself to think through the mental fog and attempt a fresh flurry of attacks, forcing his father to block him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noct began to notice the signs of him struggling; his movements slowed, he stopped warping into his attacks. So he slowed his advances, as much as he wanted to prove himself and ‘win’ their sparring session, he didn’t want to beat his dad</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regis stumbled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noct stopped dead, panic in his eyes as Regis summoned his walking stick. He leant on it heavily, and his chest heaved as he struggled to bring his breathing back under control. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dad…?” Noct whispered. The sword he was using fell to his side, all of his fighting spirit now smothered by his worry for his father. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regis looked up and smiled, “I’m ok, Noctis, give me a moment and we can continue.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noct wanted to argue, he wanted to insist that he wouldn’t continue and that he could see how tired he was, but his father had made the decision that he could continue and so they would. Now, he patiently waited for his father to get his breath back and recoup his energy. He would not rush him. After just a few minutes, Regis sent the aid into the aether and brought his glaive back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you're ready, son.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hesitated, the concern for his Dad was still at the forefront of his mind, but he knew that Regis wanted to continue, so he raised his sword and they sparred some more. The sounds from their swords striking and blocking one another echoing around them as the walls were bathed in blue light. Both men warping around one another, trying to surprise each other unsuccessfully. They both had similar fighting styles, a result of being trained by members of the Crownsguard. Noctis was still undergoing his training, but Regis was impressed with his abilities, he persevered and he refused to give up. A father could ask no more of his child. He knew, without a doubt that Noctis would make him proud, that he could trust him to be the King he needed to be, when the time came. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regis pulled every last ounce of strength into a final warp attack; he realised the moment he reached Noctis, that he had pushed it too far. His sword clattered to the ground in a loud crash. He was unable to summon his walking stick and reached out anyway, grasping at thin air, and collapsed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noct dropped the sword to the ground, the metal </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud</span>
  </em>
  <span> ringing through the room. He sprinted forward to where his father lay crumpled on the floor. Regis was breathing evenly, so he would thankfully be okay;], but his body was growing weaker from the power of the crystal. A power that had to be used to protect their people.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regis looked up, he could see Noct’s face clouding his vision, worry marring his face with lines and pulling his mouth down on either side. Noct always had had an animated way of expressing his feelings - on the rare occasion he let them show. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dad! You shouldn’t have pushed yourself!” Noct insisted, panic making his voice catch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regis slowly raised one hand to rest it on Noctis’s cheek. “I’m...proud…” His eyes closed before he was able to finish his sentence and his breathing slowed; unconsciousness dragging him under. Noct knelt by his side, tears flowing down both cheeks. He rested his ear against his father’s chest, being reassured at the gentle beat of his heart, and the rise and fall of his chest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He was alive.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That was enough for now. Noctis cursed the power his father wielded, cursed the gods for the future that awaited them both and he cursed the drain their magic had on his Dad. How it weakened him so and made it hard for either of them to have much father and son time - without their burden. Noctis knew this would be the final time that he was able to spar with his dad. </span>
</p>
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